


here's lookin' at you, kid(s)

by tatiana_romanoff



Series: the kids are (not) alright [2]
Category: Deadpool (Movieverse), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), X-Men (Movieverse)
Genre: But not quite, Everyone Is Alive, Kid Fic, Next Generation, Post-Canon, i still don't know how to tag, kind of, semi-sequel to m a r v e l s
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-09
Updated: 2020-12-16
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:09:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 11,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23553592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tatiana_romanoff/pseuds/tatiana_romanoff
Summary: A series of inter-connected (or not) oneshots involving my characters from M a r v e l s. Anything from domestic bliss, their issues, team bonding, and (you guessed it), more issues.+ includes next-gen characters that were not featured in M a r v e l s
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Original Female Character(s), Loki (Marvel)/Original Female Character(s), Nakia (Black Panther)/T'Challa, Natasha Romanov (Marvel)/Original Female Character(s), Original Female Character/Original Female Character, Original Female Character/Original Male Character, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Steve Rogers/Original Female Character(s), Thor (Marvel)/Original Female Character(s)
Series: the kids are (not) alright [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1358503





	1. brief author's note

This work is, as it says in the description, a series of oneshots that all connect to the universe I established in _Marvels._ Originally, I had a proper sequel ( _Infinity Gauntlet_ ) planned, but a lot has changed since then, and unfortunately I have neither the energy nor the motivation to rewrite/finish that story. But I still love these characters because they're a lot of fun, and as we're all stuck in quarantine (stay safe everyone!!) I figured I would do this instead. There _are_ characters that were not introduced or mentioned in _Marvels,_ but the oneshots should explain at least a little bit about their backstories and why they're there. As for a timeline, I have no idea. To me, they're perpetually stuck as teens (but I do have a few excerpts of them as adults). Anyway, enjoy!


	2. red light, green light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is an outsider POV, because the teens do actually go to a regular high school, and I started thinking about how the other (normal) kids must see them, even if the whole "children of the Avengers" thing is a secret...specifically how they see Brian.

She’d heard the stories about NYC. Mostly on internet forums, but still- the sentiment remained.

_It’s got, like, thirty different supervillains attacking each week. When I lived there, my apartment building got totaled twice in six months. Why the fuck do you think I moved to the suburbs, like a sane person?_

But Barbara’s parents had gotten high-paying jobs at a swanky company, and Barbara’s parents had a strong tolerance for people running around in capes, so Barbara’s parents had relocated to Manhattan, anyway.

Now, there was some enhanced douchebag shooting electricity from his hands attacking their school, which was on lockdown. Barbara was betting money her parents were finally regretting their decision.

“The emergency exit is close by”, one kid is saying. He’s wearing a polo and has too much gel in his hair. “We could make a run for it”.

“No way”, a girl chimes in. She’s small- must be a freshman. “The guy was last seen near our part of the building. We’ll never make it past him”.

There are at least eight teens huddled in this room, handling the situation surprisingly well. They were in study hall, and their teacher had stepped out to use the bathroom a few minutes before _it_ started. He hadn’t come back.

“What if we caused a distraction?” Barbara asks. She racks her brain for action movie knowledge, but nothing concrete comes up. It all involves too many explosions. “Like- got him focused on something else?”

“Like _what?_ ”

“I don’t know! Throw a stapler?”

A kid with big glasses shakes their head. “A stapler”, they mutter. “We’re gonna escape a psycho with a _stapler_ ”.

Barbara’s eyes feel hot. Her stomach is rapidly descending into her shoes, because there really is no way out, because there are no windows, and none of them will fit through the vents, and she doesn’t want to be fried to death on a Tuesday afternoon.

And then, a boy wearing a black leather jacket speaks up. He’s in a few of Barbara’s other classes, and looks like he either writes angsty poetry, or is always ready to stab someone.

Barbara is reasonably terrified of him. She thinks his name might be _Brian._

“I’ll distract him”, he says, “While you run”.

“Um”. Hair Gel blanches. “You’ll _what?_ ”

“Dude, you’re like 90 pounds soaking wet”, someone else says, followed quickly by a mumbled, “This motherfucker is off the _shits_ ”.

Brian scowls. Barbara doesn’t like the look in his eyes- it reminds her of the wild animals she sees on the Discovery Channel. The wolves, or maybe the coyotes.

“I’m not joking”, he snaps. “I’ve got a plan”.

“Oh, really?”

“ _Yes,_ really. I’ll be fine”.

The glasses kid frowns. “No offense, but how the hell are you so sure? You got some secret weapon up your sleeve?”

Brian pauses. His hands are in his pockets, and he stares very hard at the floor, as if contemplating something. Eventually, he says, “The Hulk is my father”.

Barbara’s first instinct is to call bullshit, because, _are you kidding me?_ The emo boy who sits in the back and actually pays attention in class is the son of a universally known superhero?

Except, he looks deathly serious. And they can hear noises outside that don’t sound like the SWAT team sweeping the hallways.

“What the fuck”, goes Hair Gel, after another second. “Your funeral, man. Your fucking funeral”.

Brian grins. It’s legitimately terrifying.

“When I give the word”, he says, “Run like hell. Whatever you do, don’t turn around”.

Well. _That’s_ not very reassuring, now, is it?

Nonetheless, Barbara agrees, because they’re out of options, and she needs him to stop showing his teeth, otherwise she might shit herself. This asshole is in her History, for crying out loud! He lent a pothead his notes yesterday!

“Ready?” Brian asks. He’s moved all the tables they stacked in front of the door out of the way, and he’s gripping the handle tightly.

The rest of the kids nod. Absurdly, she feels like they’re about to run a race.

“Okay”. He twists the handle down. “ _Go!_ ”

Brian flings open the door and bolts to the left. Barbara is first out after, and she veers right- the direction of the emergency exit. The others follow her lead, but she chances a glance over her shoulder, despite the fear.

Brian’s jacket is bunched on the floor. For the life of her, she can’t figure out why he’s ditched it.

They’ve almost reached their destination when the building starts to shake. Dust rains down from the ceiling, bringing bits of plaster with it. Barbara screams, startled, and catches Hair Gel when he stumbles.

It’s the sound behind them that sends the group hurtling across the parking lot, even when they know they’re safe; even when they know nothing is chasing them. They don’t stop until they’ve reached the people standing outside the caution tape.

Barbara will remember it later: how it was a cross between a roar and a howl, a noise that no known animal makes, or has ever made. How the foundations shook a second time with the force of it, and how all the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end.

School is closed the next day. No casualties in the attack. Barbara sees Brian again on Thursday, in History, wearing his stupid jacket and acting like nothing happened.

She doesn’t ask him any questions, curiosity be damned. The memory of that smile is just too fucking convincing.


	3. way down, hadestown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A flashback of Izzy as a child, not too long after she came to live with the Avengers, because that was a rough time. This is basically how she lost her arm, and it introduces another one of her Spy Sisters (Nikita). Larissa and Sasha are the names of the Hydra agents who raised her, Markus is the name of the guy they hired to keep their test tube babies in check, and also Bucky is here and a Dad™. The title comes from Hadestown, and one day I'll listen to the soundtrack.

Izabela dreams of the intel mission, as per usual.

It’d been more of a tag-along than a real operation; an opportunity for the girls to gain experience in the field. The fact that they were eleven at the time didn’t seem to cross their parents’ minds.

(Aunt Vyra would’ve objected, but she hadn’t known until the aftermath. Izzy was recovering from surgery when Larissa called her sister, but Tem had told her about the screaming later).

Sasha had taken care of the planning himself. He’d separated the five of them into separate vehicles, each manned and driven by Markus’s men. Izzy and Nikita were at the front of the procession; the vans were required to be ten miles apart during the journey. It was supposed to belay suspicion.

They had gathered the intel successfully, and were on their way home when the bomb— planted in the center of the road –went off.

Izabela doesn’t remember the initial explosion. She’d woken up with her right side crushed underneath the overturned van, Markus’s men dead, and Nikita thrown through the windshield.

They were surrounded by soldiers in black armor, a Russian insignia emblazoned on the chests of the uniforms. One noticed Izabela was awake and pressed the barrel of his gun to her forehead.

Nikita, broken in who knows how many ways, had been able to intervene, but not fight. The soldiers beat her easily and shot her like a dog. When the rest of the vans started catching up, they fled, and left Izabela alone with her sister’s body.

Izzy dreams of the way Nikita’s head snapped back; the blood splattering the dirt. She dreams of the pain in her arm and the iron taste in her mouth.

When she wakes up, safe and warm in a bed she still isn’t used to, her skin is soaked in sweat. There are tears dripping down her cheeks.

Izabela pushes the covers away and slides onto the floor, clapping a hand over her mouth. She tucks her right arm against her side, as if that could keep it safe.

(As if that could hide the price she paid to gain it).

Izzy doesn’t know how long she stays crouched there, struggling to breathe without sobbing. But at some point, the door opens, and the Soldat enters.

_Bucky,_ a part of her brain corrects. _Not Soldier. Not anymore._

Bucky’s forehead is creased with worry. He kneels down in front of her and goes to speak, but at the last minute, he hesitates.

Izabela tries to apologize for waking him, and whimpers instead. A few more tears escape and she scrubs at them furiously.

He watches for a moment longer, and the lighting makes it difficult to tell, but the gleam in his eyes could be disappointment or sorrow. She doesn’t know which would be worse in the grand scheme of things.

Eventually, Bucky reaches out, and when Izzy doesn’t flinch away or protest, he scoops her up like she weighs nothing. He sets her down on the bed and tucks the blankets back around her.

“How did you know I was awake?” She asks. Her voice is hoarse, and controlled out of habit. Izabela has always done her best to be quiet.

“FRIDAY”, he says softly, like how a person talks to a scared animal. A beat passes, and he adds, “I’ve been up for a while”.

She believes him. They all have their fair share of nightmares.

Izabela curls obediently into a ball and acts as though she’s going to go back to sleep, but Bucky (clearly not fooled), doesn’t move.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asks.

Izzy shakes her head.

“…Do you want me to stay?”

She nods, just to see what he’ll do, and what he does is pull over the desk chair and sit down. He doesn’t look like he’s planning on moving anytime soon. Bucky runs a hand through her hair, and doesn’t stop when she leans into the touch.

Bucky doesn’t know about Nikita. He and the Wraith ( _Katya_ ) are close, and she wonders if telling him that he could’ve saved her daughter would break him.

He starts to hum, and Izzy’s brain temporarily short-circuits, derailed from her train of thought. He’s from the 40s, but the song sounds modern. The Kozlovs weren’t big on music as part of their education.

“I do not need a lullaby”, she says, embarrassed. “I am not a child”.

Bucky grunts noncommittally. Izabela’s chest is tight.

He keeps singing, and stroking her hair.


	4. born to be reckless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some tomfoolery for the soul.
> 
> Note: Jay is not a Marvels character, but he is Izzy and Tem's brother. There are other one-shots that do a better job at explaining his presence, I just haven't posted them yet.
> 
> Another note: I have not seen Rise of Skywalker. Don't @ me

Riley valued his place as the voice of reason very highly.

He was not, however, immune to sitting back and watching his friends do dumb shit. Especially when they refused to listen to him and wanted to do the shit anyway.

“He’s going to break his fucking neck”, Riley informed Tem, who was sitting beside him and sipping a milkshake from the last DQ they stopped at.

Tem finished slurping, put the shake on the ground by her feet, and stretched. She looked at Izzy, who was currently revving the engine of Sam’s old van.

“Yes”, she admitted. “But, statistically speaking, he should be fine”.

“…Statistically?” Riley stared at her, trying to decide if the redhead was serious. Sometimes, he forgot that Aunt Natasha had chaotic energy on par with the rest of the Avengers’, and her daughter was much of the same.

“Assassin training”. Tem gave him a _look,_ as if those two words explained away every impossible stunt she and her siblings were capable of.

Which—okay, they kind of did. But that wasn’t the point.

Ignoring her teammate, Jessie grimaced and looked up and down the stretch of highway, checking for cars again, even though another vehicle hadn’t driven by in over an hour now. She was holding her phone, as though seriously considering calling one of their parents. Perhaps Uncle Pietro; he’d be fast enough to get here.

Fifteen feet away and off-road, Izzy stuck her head out of the driver’s side window. She slapped the side of the van and shouted, “Ready!?”

Jay (approximately twenty feet in front of the brunette) gave her two thumbs-up. His jacket was off, and the light reflecting off of his metal arms was blinding.

“He’s going to die”, Jessie said grimly.

“Uh huh”, said Riley.

“Meh”, said Tem.

If Izzy could hear them (and with her super soldier ears, she probably could), she didn’t care. She revved the engine one last time, hit the gas, and the van shot forward; kicking up a plume of dust. Simultaneously, Jay started running, glancing over his shoulder to check how much it was gaining on him.

Tem had started recording. She watched through the camera with furrowed brows, vaguely concerned.

“Oh, god, I can’t watch”, Jessie complained, and Riley was inclined to agree, except that neither of them were actually looking away.

The van’s bumper was now less than three feet from Jay’s legs. He looked back one last time and then jumped into the air, performing what appeared to be a perfectly executed flip, and—

“Holy _fuck_ ”, Riley said, vehemently.

The van cleared him, and Jay landed neatly on his feet, like he was some kind of goddamn circus performer.

It was, to put it simply, a reenactment of Rey leaping over the TIE Fighter in the _Rise of Skywalker_ trailer.

Izzy immediately stopped the car, climbed out, and started losing her shit. Jessie ran over and promptly joined them, while Tem calmly picked her milkshake back up and resumed slurping. With her free hand, she started tapping the buttons on her phone, and Riley sincerely did not want to know what was being done with that footage.

Instead, he sat down, hard, on the ground.

“Next thing you know, they’re going to ask for lightsabers”, he said. His tone was somewhere in between miserable and despairing.

Tem grunted without diverting her attention from the screen. “They have those in Wakanda, I think. Shuri made them”.

Riley decided immediately that this was the least relaxing, non-saving the world related roadtrip he had ever been on.

(And also maybe that Uncle Bucky should never, _ever_ find out about this).


	5. earth’s iconic™-est avengers (or: the definitely-incriminating Vine account of one Melody Maria Stark)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some more tomfoolery, and other character intros.

**_we bring you back to: the support group for the Teens of Supervillians™_ **

****

Eight people are sitting in a circle, on metal foldable chairs. The group consists of three girls (one is in a wheelchair), and five guys, all of whom are no older than seventeen. One of the boys—a tall brunette in a hoodie—stands up.

“Hi”, he says. “I’m Damien, and my dad is Mysterio”.

“Hi, Damien”, the circle parrots.

**_who needs a golden retriever?_ **

****

Melody is walking in Central Park with Tem. Both of them are holding ice cream cones (chocolate and vanilla, respectively), while smiling.

A young man stares as he walks past them, heading in the opposite direction. He gulps and says, nervously, “Nice dog”.

The camera cuts to a suspiciously large black canine walking beside Tem. Its tongue lolls happily out of its mouth and its eyes are tinted red.

“Thanks”, says Melody.

**_the queen of ultimate frisbee_ **

****

Jessie is standing in an alley and holding a trashcan lid. She winks, winds back her arm, and throws it—the lid bounces off a brick wall, ricochets off a dumpster with a metallic _clang,_ and comes right back into her waiting hands.

Melody’s voice comes from behind the camera: “ _Awesome_ ”.

**_they’re his emotional support drones_ **

****

Damien, the boy from the first vine, is sitting at a worktable and fiddling with a large, white drone. There are several more scattered around him on the floor, and at least two hovering in the background.

Melody (who is once again behind the camera), points to the drone he’s currently working on. “What do you call that one?”

Without looking up, Damien says, “Amy”.

“What about that one, over there?”

“Patricia”.

**_true love_ **

****

Jace and Jessie are curled up on the couch watching TV. It’s evident by the angle that whoever is filming is hiding behind something.

Jessie is asleep with her head on the demigod’s shoulder. Somebody in the movie screams, and she shifts, burrowing closer into the boy’s sweatshirt.

Jace’s cheeks turn scarlet. Lightning sparks from the ends of his hair.

**_she’s my cherry pie_ **

****

Melody is filming at a small café, where Wanda, Brian, Izzy, and Joven are performing. The band is actually pretty good, and has drawn a small crowd with their music (a cover of an old song).

Wanda jumps off the stage and lands on the table where Penny and AJ are sitting. She pumps her fist in the air and sings, “ _She’s my cherry pie! Put a smile on your face ten miles wide!_ ”

Melody zooms in on the trio. Underneath the table, Penny and AJ are holding hands.

**_he’s just showing off_ **

****

The location is a grassy field—in the background, a farm is clearly visible, along with a few chickens (and a man who very strongly resembles Tony Stark).

Aiden is holding a wooden bow. A full quiver is slung over his shoulder, and Brian stands about ten feet away; holding a bag of apples.

He tosses three into the air and Aiden pulls back the string. When the fruit falls to the ground, each has an arrow impaled in the center.

“Goddammit”, says Melody, who is sitting cross-legged on the ground nearby.

Aiden grins proudly. “Pay up, bitch”.

**_the coming out story of a legend_ **

****

Khari and A’yana are sitting on the couch in Avengers Compound. Melody is doing a very bad job of stifling snickers as she zooms in on the twins.

A’yana places a hand on her brother’s shoulder. “I’m lesbian”.

Khari frowns. When scrutinizing his expression, it’s impossible to tell whether or not the heir to the Black Panther mantle is joking.

“I thought you were Wakandan”, he says.

**_the best boy_ **

****

Alex and Noah are sitting on the floor in an apartment—presumably Deadpool’s. Sprawled between the two of them is a large Pitbull, who gnaws happily on someone’s sock while the sisters scratch its belly.

“Cable”, Alex says, “Speak!”

The dog—Cable—raises its head and barks what sounds like, _I wuv you._

Melody turns the camera to face herself and pretends to wipe away a fake tear.

**_earth’s mightiest teenagers_ **

****

Melody is sitting on a roof overlooking a luscious lawn—about a hundred kids are sitting by the fountain, playing sports, or just lounging on blankets in the grass.

The camera cuts to a white-haired, winged girl sitting next to her. She’s dangling her legs over the edge and kicking her feet in the air.

“Do the thing”, Melody says.

The girl mock-salutes and jumps off the roof. The next shot is of her, fifty or sixty feet up in the sky, doing spirals and barrel-rolls.

The vine stops when the brunette leaps into the sky to join in.


	6. growing up (it made me numb)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some angst disguised as a future fic for the Junior Avengers, and it's sadder than it has a right to be.
> 
> (The title comes from "Sober Up", by. AJR)

It’s been seven years. It makes sense that they’ve fallen out of rhythm.

Melody finds Jessie working at a bar—her shield and suit are collecting dust back at her apartment, and according to the blonde, she hasn’t touched either in a long time.

The other waitresses call her _Jess._ Her boss calls her _Rogers,_ and hasn’t a damn clue why that name is so important.

(They didn’t know she was special until she broke up a fight between two drunks; tossing a hulking guy more than five times her size into the counter without breaking a sweat).

Melody finds Brian working at a Youth Counseling Center. He’s changed his surname to _Littles,_ and lives in a cute one-bedroom apartment, all by his lonesome.

He looks, perhaps, the most different.

(He doesn’t agree to come with them until the day Melody and Jessie are supposed to be leaving town. He shows up outside their motel with a duffle bag and an impressive wad of cash, because Bruce Banner’s son never does anything by halves).

Jessie asks him why he chose his line of work, and Brian smiles; like they’re drinking buddies getting back together for an anniversary.

_Finally got a handle on my anxiety,_ he’d said; something incredibly powerful and tinted red shifting behind his irises. _Figured I’d help kids with their own._

Melody finds Tem working at a big brand company, in the HR Department. Her hair is significantly straighter and shorter than how she remembers it, and the rest of the employees there know her as _Tati Romann._

(She lives in a tiny shithole apartment with a few throw pillows, has a spiral notebook filled with the latest information on the rest of the Mansion inhabitants, and can’t look Brian in the eye. There are post-it notes on the fridge, in Izzy’s handwriting, that are written in Russian).

Tem goes without much of a fuss. She leads them to Aiden.

Raptor—although they don’t call him that—is the only one who stayed in NYC, and is currently the NYPD’s leading police detective.

He’s tight-lipped the first time he sees them, is pissed that Melody found him first, and shows her an entire wall he had dedicated to searching for her.

_You dropped off the grid the second we scattered. You dropped off the grid, and everyone else was gone, and it was just_ me. _Someone had to keep crime off the streets—someone who wasn’t running around in costumes, who didn’t have to run from the police. We had plenty others who wanted to play Masked Hero, anyway._

Aiden comes around, though, and he’s glad to see Tem. They actually hug, which is the happiest reaction anyone’s gotten so far, and she calls him _brother._

Melody finds Jace in New Asgard, as both the people’s prince and ambassador. He’s understandably shocked to see everyone, especially Jessie, and nearly trips over his fancy armored boots.

(He’s upset that Brian is now taller than him. It’s so _normal_ ).

Despite his duties, Jace agrees to help them, and Mel insists that the reason it’s painful is because this is going to be a tough mission to crack. It has nothing to do with how much she missed them, or how much of herself she lost when they split.

It wasn’t a clean break. It shows.


	7. tricky business

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some Aiden + Melody, my beloved dumbasses.

“I don’t know, man”, Aiden said. “Maybe I just need a hug”.

Brian’s head appeared from over the arm of the couch; one eyebrow raised. “You’re seriously going to try and rationalize your crush on Melody by making yourself believe that the only reason you like her is because you need a _hug?_ ”

At the counter, Jace let out a burst of genuine laughter, and Aiden groaned loudly.

“Gimme a break”, he complained. “She’s my _archnemesis_ ”.

“What’s the difference between that and a regular nemesis?”

“…I don’t know. That’s not the point! The _point_ is that I’m very confused over my feelings! We’ve hated each other since we were little, remember?”

Brian’s head disappeared once more, and his feet reappeared; propped up on the couch’s opposite side. He had half a mind to ask the other boy where his girlfriend went, if only so he would leave him alone. “Yeah, but _why?_ ”

“Exactly”, Jace agreed, as he opened the fridge. The blonde pulled out a carton of orange juice and began unscrewing the cap. “You’ve been going at it for years and have never given an explicit reason”.

Aiden scowled. “I came to you guys to complain, and here you are giving me sound facts. I hate both of you—dude, why the hell are you _drinking out of the carton?_ ”

The demigod paused, momentarily pulling the bottle away from his lips (the archer was briefly reminded of a startled kitten, or something equally helpless looking, when it didn’t know it’d done something it shouldn’t have). “Huh?”

“Jace, you human disaster”, Brian called.

Human disaster or no, as much as Aiden didn’t want to admit it, they had a point. He and Melody’s feud had been going on for so long that he couldn’t remember why, specifically, they fiercely disliked one another.

The brunette was definitely annoying. She could be prideful and stubborn, as well as sarcastic and occasionally even mean. But, she was also incredibly loyal and determined. She never gave up on a plan when she set her mind to it.

Melody had an iron-will, which was fitting, considering her father’s superhero title.

“Don’t be stupid”, Jace said, choosing to forget (read: ignore) the orange juice debacle. “We’ve watched you be stupid for forever now. Be _smart_ ”.

“And the smart decision would be…?”

“ _Go ask her out!_ ” He demanded, just over the sound of Brian’s (very real, and scarily Hellhound-like) growl.

Aiden rose from his seat and fled the room with a muttered, “Right, right”.

_Note to self: never tell Tasha about this. Or Tem, for that matter._


	8. bad blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is sort of an AU, but not exactly. Also featuring Jace Being A Bro and ANGST.

Brian’s head is pounding when he wakes.

It feels like someone drove a stake through his temple, and the pain radiates throughout his skull. There’s a faint sense of nausea lingering in his stomach.

Brian’s eyelids are glued shut, but he forces them open nonetheless. He’s laying awkwardly in the back of his truck and all of the windows are smashed, even the windshield ( _bullets,_ some part of him remembers, _there were bullets_ ).

The roof of the truck has been torn off. The seats are bent; stuffing strewn across the floor along with glass and—

Brian realizes with a start that he’s naked, and the cold air stings every part of his sore body. He tries to sit up, vertigo making the headache worse, and he reaches up to press a palm to his forehead.

His hands are bloody. Brian freezes.

( _Unluck the doors, kid, don’t make me ask again—_ )

There was a man. He knows there was a man, and he remembers the man had friends who shot out his tires. They knew he was Banner’s son, or something (what kind of fools try to kidnap _the Hulk’s_ child, he had no idea).

Brian remembers the man sitting in the passenger’s seat, and staring down the barrel of a pistol ( _sorry to do this to you, ‘s nothin’ personal._ He pokes the teenager in the side with it, and laughs when he flinches. _What, are you ticklish?_ )

He thinks he said, at some point, _If you shoot me, I won’t stay down. And you won’t like what gets back up._

The man hadn’t listened. He doesn’t recall what happened afterwards, but there’s a surety that there was screaming. There’s a brief image of the man trying to fire his gun multiple times, and that explains the shattered windows.

“Oh, no”, Brian whispers, not registering that he’d spoken for a moment. His voice sounds absolutely wrecked, but the rising hysteria makes it hard to care. “ _Oh, no, what did I do, what did I—_ ”

A voice that sounds like his father’s tells him he should calm down.

Brian tries to stand and stumbles, bracing himself on the ruined polyester. His eyes scan the alleyway the hitmen pinned him in, and the streets on either side are empty, but there are dark shadows all across the floor and on the walls.

The scent of iron hits him, hard.

The shadows on the walls are also blood—blood like the red ingrained into his skin, and there’s white in it like bone. There are claw marks, too, and the shadows on the floor are bodies. They’re in pieces, like the truck.

Blindly, Brian reaches for that presence he knows is there; the presence that’s _been_ there since he was twelve. The presence he hasn’t uttered a word about to anyone.

He’s never done it before. He’s surprised when it responds; a low growl shaking him to the core—he thinks it might escape from between his own clenched teeth. He thinks it might be in more control than he thought.

Brian hunches into a ball and grabs his hair. He rocks back and forth, and the radio still works, because it’s playing a garbled version of _Monsters & Men. _

The fear forces him to take action, and he gropes wildly for his leather jacket. He wasn’t wearing it when he was attacked, and his phone should still be in the pocket. Miracle of miracles, both objects are intact. Mechanically, like a robot, Brian pulls it around his shoulders and frantically hits his emergency call number.

_Murderer._

He almost breaks down completely, but then Jace answers (he forgot the blonde demigod was his contact, along with Aiden and Mel, until now).

“ _Dude!_ ” He sounds cheerful. “Where’ve you been? We had to start _Private Eyes_ without you! I know Uncle Tony’s particular about his snacks, but you could’ve just taken the abuse and still made it back in time. Movie nights are _sacred_ so Steve wouldn’t have let him rag on you _too_ much—”

Brian tries to be eloquent. All that comes out when he tries is, “ _Please come get me_ ”.

Jace stops talking abruptly. There’s a long pause. “…Are you alright?”

“N-No. I—there were these guys, and—and—and there’s blood everywhere. My _truck—_ ”

“ _Whoa,_ hey, slow down”. The other boy’s tone has changed into something softer, something with more worry. “What happened to the guys?”

There’s a notion to make something up, but he finds quickly that he can’t. He can’t bring himself to keep it all to himself anymore. If he doesn’t let it out, he fears it will quite literally destroy him, whether that would be for the best or no.

“I—I think I killed them”.

A longer pause.

Jace audibly gulps on the next line. “Okay. I’ll tell the others, and—”

“ _NO!_ ” Brian’s panic turns the cry guttural, or perhaps the snarl that forces its way up his throat is genuine. “ _Don’t tell the others!_ Just—make something up, okay? _Please_ ”.

It was probably the sincere desperation that convinced him. He really doesn’t want his mother to look at him like he’s a monster.

(He really doesn’t want his father to look at him like he knew this was coming).

“Alright, alright. I promise. Where are you?”

He tells him. At least they aren’t far.

“I’m on my way”, Jace says, and hangs up. The dial tone rings endlessly in his ear.

Brian drops the phone and hides his face in his knees. It still hurts everywhere. It feels kind of like he has a really bad case of the flu.

“I’m sorry”, he whimpers, to the dead men. “I’m _so sorry_ ”.


	9. re-in-ven-tion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A lil' AJ short, not long after she escaped from Weapon X, before she started searching for Sarah.
> 
> (I will neither confirm nor deny the title being from 'Dear Evan Hansen').

The salon is a tiny building on the outskirts of Manhattan; conjoined with a Mini-Mart. Since it also doubles as a tattoo parlor, AJ guesses it doesn’t get a lot of money.

The street it’s on is mostly quiet. Occasionally, the unsettling car alarm goes off, and the alleyways look like mouths that could swallow her whole. It’s dark, cold, and wet from the rain that just passed through. The lamps buzz unhappily and flicker as she walks by, hands in the pockets of her stolen bomber jacket.

AJ tucks a stray strand of light brown hair behind her ear. The rest swings back and forth at her waist, and she takes a minute to run her fingers through it, nostalgically. Out of self-preservation, she won’t be sleeping here tonight, that’s for sure.

The sign at the top reads in neon red, _Betty’s Hair & Tattoo Parlor,_ except one of the bulbs went out in the second _t_ of _tattoo,_ so it looks like it’s spelled wrong.

There’s no one inside except for a bored woman at the desk; who’s in the middle of snapping gum and holding a Vogue magazine.

The bell attached to the door rings when AJ opens it with her shoulder. The single employee lurches to her feet instantly. The stranger (the name tag reads _Betty,_ unsurprisingly), ushers her into a chair and doesn’t question her age. It makes AJ wonder how desperate she is for customers.

Betty makes an impressed noise when she combs through AJ’s hair, remedying some of the knots. She pops her gum. “How much you want off, honey?”

The teen swallows despite her dry throat. Her body isn’t sore anymore since she escaped the men in black (the ones who said they knew her father, the ones who shot her mother and took Sarah away, and said they were with _Weapon X_ ).

The experiments they did, did something—she can’t feel pain anymore, which AJ didn’t know until a mugger shot her in the shoulder.

She makes a vague motion, and cups one side of her hair with her hand. “Shave this half”, she instructs, and then gestures to her shoulder. “Cut it to here”.

It’s a huge change. She used to hate getting haircuts since she wanted it long, and Sarah used to have to wrestle her into the car when they were children.

But her big sister isn’t here now. Their mom is dead. AJ has nothing, and gone is the little girl who threw tantrums because she didn’t want to go the salon.

Betty whistles. “Damn. You lookin’ for something?”

Change isn’t the right word.

“Reinvention”, she says.


	10. carry on

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A cute one-shot of the Avengers Mansion kids graduating high school, because I don't get to (RIP class of 2020)
> 
> Note: there are some kids mentioned in here who aren't in Marvels. These are just misc. mansion students

Melody grabs the mic stand and rocks back and forth almost like she wants to slow dance with it; before she regains her balance and straightens up.

“Hello, fellow graduates!” She yells, unnecessarily. The slight summer breeze whips her blue robes around her legs, and the cap is on crooked. The tassel swings so close to her mouth it appears that any minute she could swallow and choke on it.

The crowd gives a sort-of uncertain cheer (most notably a “ _fuck, yeah!_ ” from Noah, who has somehow managed to convince Jace to hoist her onto his shoulders).

Melody nods, as if her work is done. Tem wonders how she got valedictorian, but then again, she _is_ the genius daughter of Tony Stark. Miracles happen.

“This year has been the craziest of my life!” She announces. “And, I have a word of advice for you, going into the future. But first, let me make it clear that I don’t like most of you, and I tolerate you even less. I also wish you the best of luck anyway. Because I’m a nice person—Aiden, I can see you laughing in the back, _can it_ ”.

She glares, ignores the snickers rippling through the audience, and then continues. “The world is scarier than school. All I can say is that I hope you all become good people, and that you all make a difference. Even if you end up dropping out of university, or missing a job interview, or leaving your fiancé whom you’ve fought crimes with for many years at the altar—”

“That was oddly specific”, Brian mutters, to Tem’s left.

“—My advice is, go for it. Try everything. Except crack, of course, don’t do drugs kids. Except, well we _aren’t_ kids anymore. We’re adults. But…let’s all make a promise not to grow up _too_ much, agreed?”

On Tem’s right, Jessie wipes a tear from her eye and sniffles.

Melody clears her throat. “And one more thing—I realize, that in the light of recent events, there was a rumor going around that one of the ‘Junior Avengers’ was going to our school”.

The blonde stops crying immediately. “Oh, my god, _what_ is she doing?”

Noah begins to curse furiously under her breath, but muffles a giggle into Jake’s shoulder, who just looks plain horrified.

“Well”, a shit-eating grin has taken over her face, “I would just like to say that it is _one hundred percent,_ complete and _utter_ fiction. Good night, everybody!”

She releases the mic stand and jumps off stage, but not before looking the entire student body in the eye and _winking._

Instantly, cheers pierce the air. Caps are thrown and caught, and just like that, high school is over and they’re no longer teenaged vigilantes without a clue.

“Now”, Tem muses, quietly, “We’re _young adult_ vigilantes without a clue”.

Melody shoves her way through the crowd to meet them, and when she arrives she throws her arms around them all. No one mentions how she basically just outed her superhero identity; although her parents are surely not pleased.

“Fucking hell”, Brian says eloquently. Tem nods like she can’t agree more.

“We’re _free!_ ” Stark shrieks, and just like that Jessie is sobbing again.

Jace pulls her in closer and presses a kiss to the top of her head, Aiden punches Melody on the arm before planting one on her cheek, and Brian turns around and proceeds to have the best make out session of his life.

When he whispers, “ _will you marry me?_ ” between their lips, Tem grins and bobs her head, enough to be noticeable to him, and him alone.

He smiles so wide it makes his chest grow warm.

“GUYS!” Wanda barrels into the group like a cannon ball, hugging Noah first, then Brian. “I can’t believe you fuckers are leaving me!”

AJ appears from the throngs of celebration with Park in tow, and she smirks when Wanda plucks off her cap and places it on her own head. The two kiss (Brian notices that AJ and Penny’s hands are intertwined, but he arches an eyebrow and doesn’t comment. He makes a mental note to ask about it later).

Jake claps him on the shoulder after hugging Tem. “Good job, man”.

Brian shrugs and does the same. He feels a certain weight lift off his shoulders (Jake looks like it too), and thinks that they’ve finally reached an impasse.

Skye, Mark, and Marie arrive hand-in-hand, so they won’t lose each other in the chaos. The descendants of the Fantastic Four look thoroughly disheveled.

“Congrats, bitches!” Marie shouts.

“Back at ya!” Riley parrots, maneuvering his way in with Izabela.

Tem darts over and embraces her sister; whispering something into her ear (Brian assumes it’s in Russian, but Izzy smiles all the same).

If he concentrates he can spot _all_ of his hero friends.

Jamie is in the back row talking animatedly to Tasha, about their plans to be roommates in college. When she waves to her twin brother Aiden begins to hop over chairs to reach them.

Emma, Josh, Elysium, Andy, James, Kat, Lily, and Maggie are making a beeline for where they’re grouped. AJ separates from Wanda and Penny to meet them halfway.

Wanda sends her girlfriend(?) one last cheesy look; before she runs to congratulate Levi, Dan, and Kara. The rest of Team X isn’t far behind; Noah and Jake included.

Tem and Izzy are now talking with Irina, Anastasia, and Elisabet. Brian doesn’t think any of them are speaking English, and many people are looking at them with confusion, but none of the girls seem to notice.

Up front, he watches Joven pull Saleitha onstage and lift her up like Patrick Swayze in _Dirty Dancing,_ much to the enthusiasm of their peers. Like Wanda and AJ, he is also wearing his significant other’s graduation cap.

Max, Kyle, and Leo have joined hands and are jumping around in a circle, like middle schoolers, and Brian feels pride swell in his chest.

Tem returns and he throws an arm around her; slightly in awe.

Hellhound is blissfully silent, and for a second, he can feel it curl around his soul and make a sound like a purr. He can pinpoint every time this year where he wondered if he was going to make it to this day, and now…

“I made it”, he says.

_We made it._


	11. spider

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I honestly don't know if this one counts as an AU or not, but basically Wanda and Alex team-up to save Penny from a supervillian (with unexpected help from AJ). At this point, they know about each other's identities, but their parents don't.
> 
> Note: I honestly don't remember what powers Alex has in Marvels, but in this its electricity.

Wanda’s heart is pounding in her ears.

 _If I survive this, and I undoubtedly will because of my healing factor,_ she thinks, _I’m going to kill Penelope-Fucking-Park._

The thought, while it makes her feel semi-better, doesn’t help in the long run. Even the familiar _shink_ of her swords sliding into their sheaths fails to calm her.

Because, while Wanda is wrestling into her Deadlock suit in her bedroom, her best friend is several blocks away.

She and Alex had seen it on the News—local hero, dubbed “Spider-Girl”, seen fighting robot drones, all being controlled by one person. She was being overwhelmed.

Penny had complained to Wanda about this creep before, and that no matter how hard she tried to get people to listen, the adult heroes wouldn’t pay attention. They’d nicknamed the guy “Hive Mind”, which had sounded lame at the time.

Now, he can very well be the guy who takes away the love of Wanda’s life.

Spider-Man, Penny’s mentor, is busy fighting a villain closer to The Avengers “pay grade”. They _could_ know about Hive Mind and Spider-Girl’s fight right now, but they can’t come to help. Uncle Peter doesn’t even know his intern is a vigilante.

That leaves Wanda herself.

Logically speaking, it’s an incredibly stupid move. Deadlock is seen in New York as a mercenary criminal, on the same level as Deadpool. Being spotted rescuing the friendly neighborhood underdog won’t help Penny’s image with the public, and it will only tip off their parents that they know each other.

_Fuck it._

Wanda growls and finishes holstering her last weapon; banging open the door only to run into Alex, who was hovering in the living room.

“Wanda”, the blonde looks stricken, “You _can’t._ It’s too dangerous!”

The brunette glares at her, and shoulders past. “I _can,_ and I _will_ ”.

“Then I’m coming with you!”

The declaration causes her to pause, momentarily, because while Penny is Wanda’s everything her baby sister isn’t going anywhere _near_ that mess.

“Absolutely not”, she says, tersely. “ _Hell_ no”.

“Hell _yes!_ ” Alex argues. “I can help!”

“I don’t have time for this! Stay here—”

“ _No_ ”, She darts forward to block Wanda’s path; eyes blazing.

Her entire body is pulled taut with rage, and for a second, she doesn’t see the pig—tailed brat that followed her around every day until she turned eleven—she sees a girl who went through the same hell she did, who saw the same things she did.

Alex slams a hand against the wall and the lights spark, then burst. “I’m coming”, she says, expression daring Wanda to challenge the verdict again.

They stare at each other. Alex’s gaze never wavers.

“Fine”, Wanda huffs angrily. “Get the car”.

Of course, when they burst out of the apartment building, the car is _gone._

“ _No!_ ” Wanda shouts, because the fight is too far away for them to run. “FUCK!”

Alex mutters a few curse words of her own and moves towards someone’s SUV.

“We’ll have to hotwire something”, she says, just as the sound of screeching tires fill the air, and a black van skids to a stop in front of them.

It has a SHIELD logo on the side, but it looks chipped, like someone tried to scrape it off and gave up. AJ, in her gear, sits in the driver’s seat.

The Wilsons gape at her, shocked.

She looks at them both impatiently; hands white-knuckling the wheel.

“Get in, losers”, she says, grimly. “We’re going to save your idiot girlfriend”.

Ajax’s daughter drives recklessly, which should really be no surprise to anyone.

“We’re almost there”, she hisses, and Wanda tenses in preparation.

She and Alex didn’t bother with seatbelts, and the fifteen-year-old grips the leather tightly. She looks scared, but clearly doesn’t want to admit it.

AJ slams on the brakes a couple feet away from some squad cars, who have made a sort of barrier around the fight—Wanda spots Penny instantly, the same time she spots her, and she watches Spider-Girl give a small, indiscernible shake of the head.

_Don’t do it._

Her friend looks _terrible._ Her suit has multiple lacerations and she’s bleeding out of most of them; a hop, jump, and a skip away from being dead on her feet.

But, she’s still fighting. Hive Mind’s drones keep coming, but she’s still _fighting._

Wanda’s heart swells with pride, past her fear.

The trio kicks open the doors and bolts towards the battle, dodging police and a few SHIELD agents alike; who look positively stunned to see AJ.

“Mars?” One of them yells, “Who are these people!?”

“They’re with me!” AJ calls over her shoulder, unconcerned, and cuts off the head of an enemy without preamble. Her movements are fluid, and deadly.

Alex throws up her hands and the ones closest to her short-circuit, compacting in on themselves as they overheat. Even the streetlamp she passes flickers and buzzes; the air around her charged with electricity.

Wanda cuts a path to Penny, barely feeling any pain when there’s a lucky hit, and she’s only about twenty feet away when the dark-haired girl’s legs give out.

“ _Spider-Girl!_ ” The scream that rips from Wanda’s throat is raw and ferocious, and it takes another minute of frantic slicing and dicing before she reaches her.

The mercenary kneels down and pulls Penny’s top half into her lap, pushing the tangled ponytail away from her forehead and tracing the mask with her fingers.

“Oh, Pen”, Wanda moans, adjusting her grip.

The drones are finally depleted. Hive Mind is gone—or if he _is_ here, she can’t see him, which is a good thing. If he were in her sights he’d be dead already.

Penny’s breathing is labored, but even dazed and in pain she looks _annoyed._

“M' okay, Video-Game Life”, she gasps, and Wanda would be surprised if it weren’t for the circumstances. She will be later, when no one is bleeding out.

 _Video-Game Life,_ is AJ’s nickname for her. She can wonder when they started spending so much time together during emergency, extremely amateur first-aid.

“No offense, I normally trust your judgement”, she says, cradling her closer and trying to exhale. “But you are _so far_ from okay”.

“You’re here, though”, Penny’s reply is weak, but honest. “We…we have to go. Now. I can’t believe you came. Y-You’re so _screwed_ ”.

While that may be true, Wanda looks up, and sees that she’s right about needing to leave as well. Most of the drones are down for the count and the cops and agents are getting the rest one by one, so far capturing their attention.

She, Alex, and AJ need to make like a banana and split before somebody asks questions. Or worse, before their parents show up.

Alex is wearing a _hoodie,_ for god sake. They’ll be lucky if no one saw her face.

“Yeah”, Wanda agrees, and scoops Penny up bridal style, noting the thinly repressed wince. “I’m going to have so much fun stitching you up when we get home”, she informs her, picking through the rubble towards the others.

They’ve already spotted them, fortunately. AJ is in the middle of pushing her way towards her potentially stolen SHIELD car; Alex on her heels.

Penny’s laugh ghosts across her neck. “Oh, I doubt that”, she whispers. “Thank you”.

There’s a lump in her throat that’s quickly swallowed down, and the lie is noticeably forced. Maybe AJ will know. Somehow, she always does.

“No problem”.


	12. отец

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tem goes on a mission with her parents. It's not great.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me?? posting after months of radio silence?? it's more likely than you think

The first concrete memory Tatiana Kozlov had of her father was when she was four-years-old.

Sasha had taken her into their backyard, which seemed to stretch for miles and miles. The tree that would one day mark Nikita’s grave was still small, and the air was cold in Russia, but they were bundled up in parkas and gloves.

He had presented his daughter with a small handgun, pointed to a row of glass bottles balanced on their fence, and taught her to pull a trigger.

(A strange thing to remember in a time like this. Tem doesn’t know why it keeps circling back, persistent, like a shadow.)

“I’m almost to the drop-off point,” she says, half into her comm and half into the wind. Her hair, much longer and curlier than it had been at age four, whips around in its ponytail. “The UBS is in my pocket. How much time?”

A crackle of static, and then Natasha’s voice hisses to life in her ear: “ _Ten minutes before the reinforcements come in. Any resistance?_ ”

(Two guards by the front gates, and several on patrol. Bucky and Clint took turns picking them off with sniper rifles and arrows before they sent Tem in.)

“A little,” Tem says, as she fires a bullet into a man’s eye-socket. “It’s nothing I can’t handle. What’s your position?”

“ _Secure. Don’t worry about me, worry about getting the intel to Steve_.”

If there are words to describe attacking Hydra bases with your family, _awkward_ is one of them. Others include _nerve-wracking._

“Bullshit.” Tem leaps over a fallen log; boots crunching in the snow. The cold air stings her face, but it’s nothing compared to her childhood. “Time?”

“ _Eight minutes_.”

“I can double back-”

Before the redhead can finish, three soldiers (dressed in fluffy down and gray camouflage), burst out of the bushes. Two are holding military-issued rifles, and the third is wielding a serrated knife.

Tem disarms the easiest of the targets and takes care of the rest fairly quickly; dodging a spray of bullets and slitting their throats. The blood drips down their clothes and smears red droplets all over the ice.

A pity. It looked kind of nice when it wasn’t tainted.

“ _Tem?_ ” Natasha’s tone has changed. “ _What’s wrong?_ ”

She wants to say, _sorry, there was trouble._ She wants to say, _I took care of it._

Instead, a fourth soldier- from the base, most likely -charges from behind, catching the seventeen-year-old off-guard. When she turns, he hits her in the side of the head with the butt of his gun, and the whole world tilts sideways.

Tem’s skull explodes, and it _hurts._ Her brain rattles, and she barely registers the feeling of warm liquid dripping down her face; the sharp taste of iron in her mouth.

She’s on her back, and staring down a rifle barrel.

_Get up,_ Tem thinks, but her muscles don’t seem to want to listen. The man presses his foot down her chest, and forces the air from her lungs.

Through the comm, Natasha is speaking: “ _Tatiana? What the hell is going on!?_ ” And, to someone else: “ _Does anyone have eyes on-_ ”

The line clicks, and goes dead.

“ _Bitch_ ,” the soldier snarls, his accent thick with hatred, but then the weight is gone, and so is the gun, and brain matter splatters against something- a _crunch,_ so probably wood.

Tem needs to move. Natasha said eight minutes, and eight minutes isn’t that long- if the reinforcements come, they won’t have a chance in hell of making it out.

Tem tries to move, and she _can’t._

“ _Hey_.” A hand, cold and unmistakably metal, rests on her shoulder. “You with me?”

She scrambles backward, away from the touch, and gropes for her staff. The dizziness makes it harder than it should be, and the blurry shape curses.

“ _Tem_.” The hand returns, this time to grab her arm. “Татьяна!”

She stops long enough to place the voice as _Bucky,_ and the tension gradually bleeds out of her body. Anyone who knows who she was _before,_ when she was one of Sasha and Larissa’s assets, is safe to be around.

“Look at me.” Bucky angles her chin to the side and examines the wound on her forehead critically. “Are you alright?”

“ _Mm-_ ” Tem manages, when she tries to use words, and he looks less than reassured.

“Okay,” he mutters, more to himself than anyone else. “Okay, this is- fine.”

She wants to lay down. It occurs to her that his right arm, not the left, is wrapped around her back and keeping her upright. She doesn’t remember when that happened, which is _bad,_ because Tem doesn’t really like being touched.

“Come on,” Bucky says, and pulls one of her arms across his shoulders. He stands up, dragging her with him, and she stumbles and vomits onto a corpse.

_Ewww._

They start hobbling forward, presumably to the drop-off point, and Tem’s vision careens with every step. It does nothing for the nausea that settles in her stomach.

“No sleeping, Romanoff.” Bucky gives her a shake and starts walking faster. “Almost there. Your mom’s going to kick your ass.”

“ _Shut uuuup_ ,” Tem groans. “I can’t-”

She dry-heaves and her throat _burns._

“ _Dammit_ ,” he says, taking cover while she spits into the snow. “Deep breaths, okay?”

( _Take deep breaths. It helps focus,_ Sasha would say, in between shots. The _bang!_ made her ears ring, and he smiled whenever she hit a target.)

When Tem is done, Bucky doesn’t try and make her walk again. Instead, he scoops her up and starts running, muttering in both English and Russian.

She’s beginning to think she doesn’t have much luck with father figures.

(Or, maybe just fathers in general. At least Bucky never made her do anything she didn’t want to, like murder.)

Tem must lose time, because the next she’s aware of her surroundings, she’s sitting in the back of a SHIELD van while a medic examines the head injury.

(Natasha’s out of the corner of her eye, arguing with the driver. Bucky’s sitting on Tem’s left and cleaning his automatic.)

Tatiana Kozlov’s father is a madman who wanted a weapon, not a child.

Tem Romanoff’s father is a former spy who doesn’t need any more baggage than he already has.

They aren’t the same person. She doesn’t know which she prefers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If I didn't mention the fact that Bucky is Tem's biological father, I have now lmao


	13. winter's child

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little semi-origin one-shot for Jay

It takes months to track down what he needs, but track it down he does: a collection of polaroids taken in the 60s-70s, an old wedding band, and a handful of jewelry, all from the same safety deposit box— placed there for safekeeping by god knows who.

Hydra destroyed his mother’s body decades ago, so he buries the ring in a field of flowers outside their first (and last) house. It’s rundown now, but the porch is still faded green, and the windows are still stained glass.

Jay makes a cross-shaped headstone out of wooden planks. He carves _Mia Addario_ into it using a pocketknife, and spends three weeks sleeping on the musty kitchen floor.

(A part of him wants to stay in the house forever. Fix up his old room, add a new coat of paint, maybe replace the floorboards. But only ghosts live in the past, and Jay is done being a dead man.)

So, he pockets his star pendant, says goodbye to his mother, and walks to the closest payphone.

(It turns out, a lot has changed since the 80s. Payphones are hard as _fuck_ to find.)

But he succeeds, eventually, and calls the number that’s written on the inside of his wrist. His tongue tastes like ash in his mouth, but Nikita picks up on the second ring.

“ _You have five seconds to tell me exactly who you are, and why you’re calling_ ,” she warns, “ _Or I will find out how you got this number, I will hunt you down, and I—_ ”

“You are very dramatic,” Jay muses. “Have your other siblings told you that?”

There’s a brief pause, and then he can practically feel her demeanor change through the phone: “ _Jason! Holy shit, how have you been?_ ”

“Better. What about you, ‘Kita?”

“ _Not awful. I’ve been crashing on Izzy’s couch in NY, ‘til I feel like going back to the Glaza. The urge has not struck me yet_.”

The mention of Izzy makes his stomach turn. He knows, after all, who her father is (who _their_ father is.) “Have you…told?”

“ _No. We promised, right?_ ”

A spy’s promise isn’t worth much, but she’s just as aware of that as he is. Jay presses his forehead against the glass of the payphone and breathes; waiting for the tightness in his chest to dissipate.

“I would like,” he says, then stops. Hesitates. “Would…appreciate it. If you could send someone to pick me up. I am in California.”

“ _Consider it done_.” The tension is no longer present, and Nikita is back to business as usual. “ _Where do you want to go?_ ”

Jay considers the question. He can’t say _home,_ because home was that little townhouse in the middle of nowhere, where Mom made pancakes and they did the dishes together every night. For him, _home_ no longer exists.

“You said I was brother,” he manages, finally. “I would like…to stay with you. If that is possible.”

The smile is evident through the speaker. Nikita says, “ _Yeah. I can make that happen_.”

It’s not home. But they remain his family, anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm having a real time ig


	14. family dinners

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Avengers Mansion chows down after a hard day of saving the world, and what-not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im really pounding em out today huh

Everyone is eating in their uniforms, crowded in the dining hall of Avengers Mansion. The food is from five different Chinese places, three different pizza places, and a few Thai places. Occasionally, somebody wanders in holding a bag from Genova’s or Panera, but Jessie doesn’t have the motivation to care.

Across from her, Jay is nodding off into his soup. Nikita and Izzy, who are sitting on either side of him, take turns nudging their brother awake. Whenever Izzy’s metal arm makes contact with his ribcage, there’s a metal clanking sound, and Jessie honestly doesn’t want to know.

Brian finished eating twenty minutes ago (not hard to believe considering the amount of calories Hellhound burns off), and crawled under the table to sleep. Tem is on her fourth sandwich with no end in sight, and Melody is allowing Aiden to doze off on her shoulder.

Jessie knows some of them are injured. Her ribs are cracked, and Jay most likely has a concussion. His body might be 60% metal, but his brain certainly isn’t. The same could be said for Jace, who is terrible at ducking when there are large projectiles flying through the air.

(The blonde makes a mental note to thank Saleitha later. Without her magic, the godling would probably never make it off the field.)

At the end of the table, Damien and Penny are surprisingly alert. Damien is inhaling a bowl of Lo Mein noodles and talking about the mechanisms of his suit; Penny is sipping a milkshake and firing back with question after question.

(Behind them, Wanda has curled into a ball and fallen asleep, surrounded by empty burrito wrappers. AJ is lying next to her, an arm tucked around the former mercenary, but she remains awake and scrolling on her phone.)

On Jessie’s right, Jace’s cup of coffee is half empty, although it is surrounded by five other empty mugs.

“I love you,” he says, matter-of-fact.

She smiles. The victory always feels good, but it’s these moments— as incredibly exhausting as they are –that prepare her to fight the same battles again and again. “I love you, too.”

“ _Gag_ ,” Riley says. “God, my poor virgin ears.”

Izzy pats the pilot (in a sense) on the shoulder, and kisses his cheek. In the same breath, she kicks Jay in the shin, and he jolts upright. “Mmhm. They’re disgusting.”

Jessie gives them the finger. Jace laughs humorously and slips an arm around her waist, retracting it immediately when she winces.

“Not broken?” He asks, concerned.

“Not broken,” Jessie confirms. “I’ll get them looked at it after everything’s cleared up. The infirmary is probably crowded right now.”

Melody, who must have some form of super-hearing, snorts derisively. She exchanges a knowing look with Jace and says, “Christ, Jess, couldn’t you wait in line like a civilized vigilante?”

“I’m _fine._ We’ve all had worse!”

Izzy levels her with a thousand-yard stare. Jay is just coherent enough to do the same, and Tem facepalms so hard that Brian wakes up with a snort. The table jolts when his forehead smacks into it.

“Sure, sure,” Jace says. He stands and scoops her up before Jessie can process the last five seconds, and she shrieks in protest. “But I believe we made an agreement, like, ages ago. After our first big fight.”

“Oh, _really_.” Jessie pushes uselessly at his shoulder. “And what was it?”

“None of us have good track records when it comes to deciding if our injuries are or aren’t serious,” Tem supplies helpfully. “Which means the rest of us take point. And the rest of us are sending you to the nurse.”

_Post-battle blues,_ Jessie thinks, resigned but warm, as Jace starts carrying her away to the infirmary. _It’s a hell of a thing._


	15. earth's mightiest camcorder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aiden really thought they'd find it sooner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> these aren't holiday fics, but happy holidays to anyone who celebrates something!!

Buried under a ridiculous amount of red tape and computer coding is Aiden Barton’s YouTube channel.

Most of the earlier videos are him showing off with a bow— hitting targets like apples and grapes. They have Melody’s running commentary in the background (and Brian exasperatedly throwing the fruit in the air for him.)

As time goes by, the videos get more and more incriminating. The titles are usually compilations of him and his friends being, as the Internet would say, “crackheads.”

(No, really. The most popular upload on his channel is called _the love of my life being a crackhead for ten minutes and five seconds._ As a disclaimer, Aiden would rather die than have Melody find out he called her that.)

The other greatest hits include gems like _the spy kids being chaotic for seven minutes straight,_ and _the junior avengers being idiots on the news for a whole hour._ The Wilson trio are also fan favorites, as well as Meredith’s team.

Naturally, with content of that variety, there are plenty of conspiracies regarding Aiden’s identity. But most of the forums about it find themselves mysteriously deleted after less than an hour. The same can be said for suspicious comments, other videos by other YouTubers, etc. Whether or not Aiden is accomplishing all of this himself, or another mansion member is aware of the channel, remains unknown.

It’s a good thing he flies under the radar, even as a vigilante. More often than not, the feeling leaves a bitter taste in his mouth, despite when it comes in handy (enemies underestimating him enough to gain the upper hand, for example.)

But Aiden’s invisibility clause isn’t infallible. In hindsight, it’s amazing that the channel lasted as long as it did without becoming a Thing.

It starts like this: on a Saturday afternoon, a group of them are hanging out in the mansion’s living room. A “group” translates to around twenty kids, because the living room is fucking _huge,_ but the point still stands.

Aiden is playing solitaire on his phone when Damien bolts upright on one of the couches, and declares, through peals of laughter, “You mother _fucker!_ ”

Jessie, who is chilling in an adjacent armchair with Jace, raises a singular eyebrow. She exchanges a look with her boyfriend, who shrugs.

“Um, Damien,” she says, “ _What?_ ”

The son of Mysterio aims his laptop at them and points to the screen. “ _Aiden_ has a goddamn _YouTube channel_.”

Jessie and Jace are standing in an instant, and the rest of the teenagers crowd around to see. Aiden slides onto the floor in a display of utter defeat.

“ _Dude_ ,” Jake cries, “I don’t know whether to be offended or flattered!”

“This is satire,” Tem says, fascinated. Then, perplexed: “Okay, I really should’ve figured that we embarrassed ourselves on the News a lot.”

“I had so much material it was sad,” Aiden admits. “That one time Jace tripped on the soda can and slipped—”

“Is there?” The demigod finishes, eyes wide. “What about that time Melody fell asleep talking to the reporter?”

“The timestamp is 32:08.”

Damien obligingly skips to it. All of them collectively lose their shit watching Melody doze off in the middle of the segment.

Surprisingly, no one is yelling. Aiden had made sure not to put anything too humiliating in the videos, out of respect for his friends, but a part of him had always worried that there would be threat of evisceration if they ever found out.

“Dear god, there’s one that makes fun of the _spies_ ,” Riley snorts. “Did you reference when Jay—”

“—Kept taking out knives when the SHIELD agents were searching him? Oh, yeah.”

Jay looks vaguely bewildered, affronted, and maybe a little glad to be included. Izzy pats him on the shoulder and muffles her snickers into her sleeve.

“I hate this fucking family,” he says, finally.

Izzy pauses. “Did Nikita teach you that meme?”

Jay doesn’t answer, which is probably a yes. His sister pulls out her cell phone and starts dialing a number, while Tem rolls her eyes.

(Aiden finds it endearing, yet hilarious, that Jason is chronologically the oldest of his siblings, but the Kozlovs have decided to label him as the younger brother.)

Meanwhile, Damien goes through at least three more videos before Rosemary looks at the archer quizzically.

“How have you been doing this for so long?” She asks. “You’d think that one of Stark’s protocols would’ve caught on.”

“I have my ways.”

In truth, Aiden has no idea what those “ways” are, but his friends don’t need to know that. He’ll come up with something eventually.

“Hey, wait, who’s ‘ _the love of your life_ ’?”

“ _Don’t click that one!_ ”


	16. food from the heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It goes to show you that this is why the Mansion should just order pizza every night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we vibing here in this taco bell

Tem is sure that at one point they had a list, and now they don’t.

_Half of us are almost adults, Dad,_ Melody had said, _we’re perfectly capable of going grocery shopping ourselves, Dad._

“Oh, shit,” Brian says, somewhat mournfully, when he crushes another nectarine.

Tem sighs as he drops the gooey mess into a plastic bag, wiping his hand on his jeans. “Baby, you’re supposed to squeeze them _gently._ ”

“I _did._ ”

This is the third time they’ve had this exchange in the last ten minutes. Brian is starting to look a little bit like a kicked puppy, Tem is tired, and she also can’t see any other Mansion kids (and considering the small army they brought shopping with them, that’s very concerning.)

“No one likes nectarines, anyway,” Tem says. “Let’s go find Melody before someone recognizes her.”

Brian makes a small noise of agreement and they leave the fruit section in search of the genius. On the way, they pass a vaguely familiar figure looking at the watermelons, and it’s not that Tem is one-hundred percent _certain_ that Saleitha would disguise herself as to not be seen with them, it’s that she wouldn’t put it past the sorceress in the slightest.

The other spies—Nikita (who is technically visiting), Jay, and Izzy—are all in the frozen meals section. Nikita and Izzy are bickering openly in Russian, and Tem knows that her white-haired sister was not wearing a pair of Elton John sunglasses when they left this morning.

Jay is standing off to the side, looking for all the world like a child whose parents are arguing in public. He has at least fifteen pizza bagel boxes stacked in his arms.

“What are you _doing?_ ” Tem asks in English, because the last time she spoke Russian in public, an old white lady called her a communist.

“Izabela wants the _heathen_ brand that is DiGiorno’s,” Nikita says mutinously, at the same time Izzy says, “Nikita wants _vegan pizza._ ”

Tem sighs, mostly because she doesn’t want to get in the middle of this argument. She turns to Brian, only to find that Brian is gone, probably because he saw them fighting and _nope’d_ off to the meat aisle.

“Jay,” She says, with infinite patience copied from Jessie, “What do you think?”

Jay, who is barely visible behind the pizza bagel boxes, shrugs.

“Don’t care,” He says magnanimously. Then, “Do we have a cart?”

“It was with Melody.”

He groans in despair. Tem can relate.

Nikita and Izzy start bickering again ( _it’s Tony Stank’s money, why can’t we just get both?_ ) and she makes the personal decision to turn around and leave. Before she gets out of earshot, Tem hears the chaos of several pizza bagel boxes falling to the floor, and loud swearing in Italian.

Uncle Tony should’ve known better. Either he thought this would be funny, or he and Melody are working on their mutual trust issues.

_Next time they should just see a therapist,_ she thinks.

Next time, they’re ordering takeout.


End file.
